Killin' Em
by Fanfictions4everscar
Summary: My name is Desdemona Summers, and I'm from the Capitol. Snow has added an element to the third-quarter quell. He is also drawing two tributes from the Capitol. We are without a team, a mentor, or any formal training. In addition to this, I'm haunted by the memories of the loved ones Snow took from me every day.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! I posted this awhile ago, but it was unfinished. Since then, I've finished it and made many changes. Because of this, I am just going to restart. I hope you enjoy it!**

 **I do make major changes to the actual Catching Fire plot, so when I do, I'll let you know at the beginning of the chapter.**

 **Prologue**

My name is Desdemona Summers, and I live in the Capitol. Because of the last Hunger Games, people know things are changing. Katniss Everdeen, some nobody from District 12. She all but spat in the Capitol's face a year ago. Secretly, I admire her, but if anyone finds out, I'll be sharing the same fate as…never mind. I don't want to think about what would happen to me if they find out how I feel about Katniss and my hopes for a rebellion. For freedom. Anyway, while people know things are changing in Panem, nobody is expecting this.

It is the 75th anniversary of the Hunger Games, which means that it is the third-quarter quell. President Snow makes his proclamation about previous victors being drawn, but during the already-shocking speech, he lets out a sigh.

"In order to make the Games a little more interesting for the third-quarter quell, we will be drawing a female and a male victor from the Capitol as well."

Everyone in Panem must fall silent at that news, holding their breaths. The gigantic crowd around me does, all fearing that it is them that will be thrown into the arena. Snow silently walks over to a giant glass bowl to his right.

"The male tribute is…Alejandro Diamond."

From the gigantic crowd of the Capitol's residents, Alejandro arrogantly swaggers to the stage. He gives the crowd a big smile, though they are still silent, and waves energetically. As far as Capitol residents go, he is average. He has golden hair that he slicks back, and he dresses completely in gold, glittery outfits. In addition, the makeup that lines his eyes and lips is gold as well. I've never seen him before.

"The female tribute is…" Snow continues, making his way to the other side of the stage to the other bowl, "Desdemona Summers."

He says it so quickly that I'm not sure I heard him right. But when I realize he's said my name, it feels as if the ground has fallen away from beneath my feet. My vision turns black and fuzzy, and suddenly the hands of the people around me are holding me up. Desperate thoughts race through my head as I gasp for air. Why is it me? How are the odds stacked so high against my favor? There are millions of people in the Capitol and without having tesserae, everyone's name was only entered once.

When my wave of dizziness passes, I walk slowly up to the stage as well. The usually ecstatic and over-the-top crowd remains in their shocked silence as I tried to keep my breathing even. I bite my tongue to keep from crying. Mother used to tell me that if I cried, my make-up would run, and I don't want that.

In contrast to Alejandro's gold, my color scheme is all cool colors. I don't like sticking to a solid color, as Diamond seems to. My mother used to call me her little peacock. I wear green and blue feathers in my purple hair, and that purple matches the swirly makeup around my eye and the glittery lipstick that coats my mouth. The dresses I wear are one of my three colors, if not all of them at once. The dress I wear today is a short, summer dress with purple and green swirls.

When I make it up to the stage, I try to stand tall, but all I want to do was crumble. For once in the Capitol, there is no cheering. There is no joy. The people, including me, feel like we've been betrayed by Snow. Only for me, this is not the first time. Even he refuses to look up at me as Alejandro and I are dragged from the stage. He seems almost embarrassed that I was the tribute from the Capitol. I know he knows me and remembers our past.


	2. Chapter 2

**So, you'll notice the first big difference in this chapter. Haymitch is going into the arena with Katniss, unlike in the book. Peeta will not actually make an appearance in this fanfic, and there are several reasons for that. One of which being that I didn't want to focus on their love story. The fanfic is about Desdemona, not Katniss and Peeta. Sorry. Another reason is that I ship Haymitch and Katniss, and I wish they had more scenes together in Catching Fire (romantic or not; they have a good dynamic). There are other reasons, but as they will spoil the rest of the story, I cannot share them with you. Enjoy!**

 **Chapter OneSoSosSO**

"How are we going to do this?" I ask Alejandro when we're finally alone. I don't know him personally, but we're both from the Capitol. We must both feel betrayed.

"What do you mean?" he responds.

"I mean…we don't even have a mentor. We're all alone!"

"Well, in my opinion, it's about time they included the Capitol. I'm tired of the Districts thinking that we're weak."

I stare back at him, horrified.

"How could you be happy about this?" I ask, but he ignores my question, shaking his head.

"At any rate, we meet with our stylists tomorrow, and we have that tribute parade tomorrow night. In the meantime, I guess it wouldn't hurt to check out our competition," he continues, finally saying something that I can agree with. I immediately turn on the TV.

We might have sat there for an hour, watching each attractive and scary pair of tributes being pulled from each District, and I realize that we'll be everyone's first target since we're from the Capitol. I'm either going to have to kill innocent people, or I will die myself.

I have never been into the Games. I watch them so that I can talk to my friends and family about something that they find exciting. I don't take pleasure in watching kids my own age and younger being killed for food when I can barely finish dinner. Maybe I should die. If I were to win, where would the prize go? Snow cannot have thought this through.

"The District 12 tributes are…" Effie Trinket, an old friend of my mother's announces from the television, "Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark!"

"I volunteer as tribute," Haymitch Abernathy, the blonde mentor standing next to Peeta, says. After a quick side conversation between Haymitch and Peeta, both Katniss and Haymitch are taken off-stage.

"Great," I mumble, "We're so screwed."

"Desdemona!" a shrill voice sounds from somewhere behind me. I whirl around to see Effie Trinket standing in the elevator doorway. Since she is one of my mother's friends, I feel immediate comfort at her presence. After all, I've known her since I was a child. I sigh in relief and run to give her a hug. I ignore the judgmental stare from Alejandro and my makeup as I begin to cry.

"Why is Snow doing this?" I sob, "Is it because of me? Is it because of…of…of _him_ , and what he did last year?"

"No, no, no," she says quickly, clearing the lines of purple running down my cheeks with her thumb, "It's not about him. Snow just thinks that any chance of a rebellion would be stopped if the Districts knew he was treating the people from the Capitol the same way."

"That's so stupid!" I exclaim, crying hysterically, "I'm going to die. Even if I did win, the Districts would rebel because they won't get any prize!"

"Maybe we should step into the elevator, dear," Effie says, leading me away from Alejandro and into the glass box. When we're alone, she presses a button on the side of the elevator and continues talking, "Don't say stuff like that around him. He's going to try to kill you eventually. Besides, people from the Capitol get a little touchy around rebellion talk."

"I'm sorry," I whine as we descend, "Where are we going?"

"We need to talk to you…privately."

"Who needs to talk to me?" I ask as the door opens.

"We do," Haymitch's voice answers as he pulls me into the District 12 suite. Leading me by the arm, he pushes me down on the couch in the living room. Even though I know other tributes aren't allowed to hurt me until the Games, Effie's presence is the only thing that keeps me from throwing up in fear.

"You must feel betrayed," Haymitch says, sitting down on the couch across from me.

"No," I sniffle through my tears.

"C'mon, sweetheart. The man you thought you could trust just threw you out in the cold."

"I never said I trusted him. Where's Katniss?"

"With Cinna, your stylist. She doesn't know that you're here."

"Cinna? _My_ stylist?"

"Well, yours and Katniss'."

"Why do we have the same stylist?"

"Because I requested it," Effie suddenly interjects, "Because of my success last year, and because I knew your mother, and because you're without any help, Snow has agreed to let you two share a prep team. Of course, he hopes to connect yours and Katniss' looks in some way, so people begin to connect you two as well."

"Are you asking for an alliance?" I blurt as my tears begin to dry.

"With you," Haymitch answers, "Not your boy-toy."

"Why not Alejandro?"

"He wouldn't agree to it, first of all. And he's cocky, self-centered, and I don't like him. He also wouldn't make much of a public statement, would he? However, you and Katniss are the same age and sex. People would begin to see you as a pair…like sisters. You would be the Capitol counterpart to Katniss. Hopefully, we'll be able to come up with a way to get both of you out alive."

"Why do I need to get out alive? I'm nothing."

"Think about it, Desdemona," Effie tells me, gripping my wrist with excitement in her eyes, "Every single person in Panem hates Snow. All we need is you and Katniss to make a clear, public alliance between the Districts and the Capitol citizens. It will unite Panem, and both of you will have hundreds of sponsors."

"And you aren't nothing," Haymitch says, "Effie told me about your connection to what happened last year. Many of the Districts are rebelling. If you and Katniss were to win, both of you would be fantastic revolutionary leaders. But it's completely up to you."


	3. Chapter 3

**I don't think there's any big changes in this chapter, but I wanted to say that I hope everyone is having a great summer!**

 **Chapter Two**

"Alright," Cinna begins, looking over me while rubbing his hands together, "Effie told me about your conversation earlier, and I've been thinking about your outfit. By the way, I'm really sorry about-."

"Yeah," I cut him off, not wanting to talk about that chapter of my past, "It's fine. Let's move on."

My mind is already bursting with questions, but the amount is so overwhelming that I can't voice any. I don't know where to start. I also can barely believe that Cinna is the stylist for my eminent death when we have so many shared childhood memories. He is quite a few years older than me, but he is the son of my dad's best friend, so I used to see him all the time.

"So fire is hot, right? What's the opposite of hot?" he asks suddenly.

"Umm…cold?"

"And what's one of the coldest natural things you can think of?"

"Snow," my voice comes out in a whisper.

"So, picture this: the girl of fire and the snow queen for the parade. Besides, a snow queen outfit would reflect the Capitol because of President Snow."

"But I thought Katniss and I were supposed to be forming a public bond," I say, "If I appear to be representing Snow with pride, how would the public view me?"

"Tonight is not the time for a rebellious move. Tonight you'll be each standing separately for your own home. Even when you make your alliance, you'll be from the Capitol. The crowd needs to see that you're bridging the gap, not pretending that you're from the Districts yourself. Does that make sense?"

"Yes," I answer, nodding. It does make sense, and I like the logic.

Cinna starts working on the dress, taking measurements and having me try different pieces on. He finishes it and pulls it over my head. For such a complicated piece, I'm surprised how quickly Cinna creates it. The white and blue, frosty material rustles against my skin as it settles around me. As I look at it, the dress makes it look like I'm covered in sparkly snow. It's beautiful, and once it's on, the makeup process begins. It begins simple, with a sparkly dust over every part of me that is exposed. The neckline falls very low, accentuating my chest, but it falls past my feet in length, so the sparkles only need to coat my arms, chest, neck, and face. After I am covered with the glitter, a frosty, light blue eye shadow is applied. Finally, the worst part. Up one side of my neck, the makeup artists paint an intricate pattern that looks exactly like frost. It reminds me of the camouflage Peeta did in last year's Hunger Games, it's so realistic.

"Almost finished," Cinna assures before the hairstylists begin. After pulling, trimming, washing, drying, brushing, and plucking, my hair is finally pulled into a super curly up-do complete with frosty snowflake pins that match my neck.

"Okay, now you know how Katniss has fire coming off of her dress?"

"Yeah," I respond, "Am I going to have snow?"

"Precisely," Cinna answers, holding up a remote control with a single red button on it, "Press when you're ready."

Then Cinna leads me out to Alejandro and our chariot. Stationed directly in front of us is the District 12 chariot. Haymitch stands next to it, watching me climb next into my own. His face is devoid of emotion, but he nods once in greeting. I nod back, but then quickly turn to Alejandro, who wears a more masculine version of my outfit.

"I have to say," he begins, "this is genius, Cinna. What a marvelous way to represent the Capitol!"

I ignore his comment. Saying anything might give away the true reason behind our costumes, which is something Alejandro can't know. Instead, I study the tributes in front of us. Katniss stands beside Haymitch. Neither of them look back at me, but I'm aware that Katniss is as clueless as Alejandro about our alliance. Haymitch gently takes her hand and smiles at her. I see him say something, but he's too far away from me to hear. Regardless, I can tell he's comforting her.

Suddenly, Alejandro grabs my own hand as the chariots start to move. I am about to pull my hand away when I think better of it. I need to show people that the Capitol is still a team. Even though Snow has abandoned us, we will not break apart. Looking ahead, I notice that Katniss and Haymitch are still holding hands, but they aren't flaunting it as Peeta and Katniss had. I watch as Haymitch's thumb runs across Katniss' knuckles.

As the chariots pull out of the building, the crowd is completely silent. There is no cheering or clapping. There is no flowers being thrown at the tributes. Then the final two chariots pull out. Once Katniss and I ride out of the building into the cool night air, the crowd begins screaming and cheering. I want to yell at them to stop. They're only encouraging Snow. I know they mean it to be reassuring, hopeful, and maybe even rebellious. But it's having the opposite effect.

But rather than yell anything at them or even smile, I look straight ahead. If they don't know how to be rebellious, I'm going to need to do it for them.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey! I hope you're all having a great day! I know school is starting for many people in a couple weeks, but I hope to post many more chapters in between then and now. So please enjoy this chapter.**

 **Chapter Three**

SNOW'S POV: I hope that Alejandro and Desdemona won't fall into the foreseeable rebelliousness. I hope that they will represent the Capitol and Panem as a whole with pride and nationalism. So I wait, mentally crossing my fingers, for the chariot of the Capitol. As all of the less important chariots ride down the path, the crowd remains silent. For the first time, I begin to regret my decision to enter tributes from the Capitol. But I can't afford to worry about what the citizens think. I did this for a reason. I just need to remember who the enemy is.

Suddenly, the audience bursts into cheers and applause as the last two chariots pull out into the night. As the District 12 and the Capitol chariots get closer, I see it. Right behind the girl on fire, rides Desdemona and Alejandro with frosty outfits that seem to be snowing. I feel a smile spread across my face as the chariots begin riding past me. Perhaps Desdemona will serve as the foil to Katniss. Maybe she can squelch the rebellion and win back some honor for her family.

I look down at Katniss as she rides past me. I smirk at her, as if to say, 'You can never overpower the Capitol'. But she looks right back at me, her eyes fiery and angry. I look away before her so that I can make eye contact with Desdemona, who is also staring at me. Through eyes as cold as her outfit, I can see defiance. She thinks that she's above this…above me. Just like the rest of her family. Suddenly, her lips curve into a mischievous smirk. She's planning something. Something to revenge the people I've taken from her. The people she loved with all of her heart. The people who are now dead because of me.

DESDEMONA'S POV: After the chariot parade, Alejandro and I get into the elevator with Katniss, Haymitch, and another tribute I recognize as Johanna Mason. My mind is racing as I think about what will take place in the next few days that I don't even realize Johanna is undressing. I'm so lost in thought that her ramble is nothing except white noise until she stands before us, naked.

When I realize, my train of thought crashes dramatically, and I am left staring in disbelief. She bends down to pick up the dress at her feet, and then she begins talking to Katniss. The awkward tension in the air fades as Johanna leaves the elevator, but then Alejandro, almost purposely, creates more.

"Your turn," he says to me. I stare back indignantly, but then I hear Haymitch chuckling. I look at him and Katniss. The girl on fire is also trying to recover from the shock and infuriation at Alejandro's comment.

"Something funny?" snarls Alejandro.

"You aren't going to last one minute," Haymitch responds, suddenly becoming serious, "Not if you keep betraying someone who's in the same position as you."

"You think you can talk to me that way? I'm from the Capitol!"

In a second, Haymitch is across the elevator, picking up Alejandro by the lapels of his frosty jacket and slamming him against the wall.

"You think you can talk to her like that?" Haymitch asks, jerking his head in my direction, "She's from the Capitol too. You better stop thinking you're above everyone else. I don't care where you came from. You're a tribute now…just like all of us. If you don't get your act together, boy, you're gonna have many more enemies than just me."

Then the elevator door dings and Haymitch drops Alejandro. As Katniss follows her mentor out of the elevator, she gives me a small, comforting smile, which I return. Then they're gone, leaving me alone with Alejandro. I wish I could be going with them instead.

"Making friends, I see," he says as we reach our penthouse, which is the floor above District 12. I don't respond as I begin walking to my room.

I make it halfway down the hall when Alejandro grabs my wrist. I turn to look at him, and I see that he is still shaking from his encounter with Haymitch, but he is also pretending not to be bothered.

"Don't forget why we're here," he growls, "Snow put us in this competition to represent him and the Capitol. We are _not_ here to fraternize with the Districts, especially not District 12. Remember who the enemy is."

"I know who the enemy is," I snarl back, yanking my wrist from his grasp.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Four**

The next three days are training days, and I feel completely out of place in the training center. I don't know what to do because I've never touched many of the weapons before. As Alejandro, predictably, leaves me to try out the different weapons by himself, I'm extremely relieved when Katniss makes her way over to me.

"Hey," she greets, forcing a gentle smile.

"Hi," I say back.

"You look sort of lost."

"I am," I laugh in return.

"Well, have you used anything here before?"

"Knives," I respond, but then I notice Katniss trying to hold back a smirk, so I hastily add, "Not just for eating."

"Let's start with knives then," she laughs.

I follow Katniss through the training center until we reach a dummy with a target on its chest. Katniss tells me to stand about five yards away as she walks over to a nearby table and grabs six knives. I raise an eyebrow. I know I'm not supposed to have any experience, but I find the mere five yards almost insulting.

As I take the small daggers from Katniss, I smile and step back until I'm nearly twenty yards away from the dummy. The girl on fire raises her eyebrows but says nothing as she steps away from the target. Four of the knives are held in my left hand, in between my fingers while I hold the other two in my right (one between my middle and index fingers, and the other between my middle and ring finger).

The knives themselves aren't much longer than my fingers, but they're really sharp. I can tell simply by looking at them. The blade is thin, which only means that I can cut someone, and they won't realize I've hurt them for a few seconds, giving me enough time to escape if need be. In addition, they're also easy to conceal in my hand. I like them a lot. They're deadly but also very stealthy.

I shift my weight, trying to remember how to throw knives like I used to. I used to be very accurate with my aim, but it has been a while. Taking a deep breath, I raise my right hand. Then I snap my knuckles forward, sending the knives flying one after another into the dummy in under a second. Without worrying where they hit, I reach down to my left hand. Grabbing each with my right, I fling them forward. Aiming and moving but hardly seeing. After ten seconds, at the most, I am out of knives. I look over at Katniss, who is looking back and forth between the dummy and I in shock.

"How did you learn how to do that?" she asks.

"My father," I answer simply as my gaze follows hers to the target. Out of the exact center, the six tiny daggers are protruding. My voice drops to a whisper as I take a few steps closer to Katniss. "He taught me right before he was arrested for treason."

"Oh, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay. His best friend stepped in as a father-figure. And I still had my mom. Oh, Cinna's father was my dad's best friend, by the way. And Effie is best friends with my mom."

Katniss presses her lips together and looks at me for a long moment, her eyebrows furrowed.

"I'm sorry," she repeats finally, "I guess I haven't realized before now. But…this is your home. You know and trust the people here, but Snow betrayed all of you. You were raised thinking you were better than the Districts because you were more fortunate, and I've hated the Capitol people for that, but we're all in the same boat now. Except…you don't have a mentor or a team, or you shouldn't anyway. And you shouldn't know how to use weapons either. You're more alone here than anyone else, especially since everyone here has already won the Hunger Games. Most of the other tributes want to kill you first because they hate the Capitol and think you're weak. You have it the worst. Snow is almost giving you as a sacrifice to stop any rebellion."

"We'll just have to prove them wrong then," I say, shrugging, "I can show people that I'm stronger than they think."

* * *

HAYMITCH'S POV: I look up from what I'm doing to see all of the tributes migrate towards one of the glass rooms that contain the holographic enemies. I walk over too, but I have to push people out of the way to see what's going on. In the room, fighting off the fake enemies is Katniss with her bow and arrow. She's so strong, so determined that I sometimes find it hard to believe that she's a product of District 12. The District that is almost a joke. But this girl is so special, so amazing that she can attract a room full of people who will be waiting to kill her in the arena.

However, she isn't the only one they're watching. There's another girl in the room with her. A girl with knives. The girl's hair is long and dark, but I can't quite see the color in the dimly lit room. I look back and forth between her and the tributes standing around me. It isn't Johanna; she's standing next to me. Obviously not Mags. Cashmere's hair is too light. Wiress is too skinny, and her hair is too short.

As more enemies rush towards them, they switch positions. Katniss, who was kneeling and shooting, stands while the other girl sinks down and begins throwing perfectly aimed knives from her lower position. Everything about their movements is so natural, as if it is part of a dance. They move independently but with unity, freely but under control. It is beautiful…and unusual for Katniss to be working so well with another tribute. These two will make a deadly team. I need to ask this one to form an alliance with us.

Finally, a hologram appears very close to the other girl, and it illuminates her hair. Immediately, I understand why it was so hard to recognize her. Whenever I saw her before, her hair had always been up in an intricate style. I don't think I've ever seen it down. Even when she turns her face towards me, it is hard to recognize her without her extensive makeup.

But as the hologram sheds light on her purple hair, I breathe a sigh of relief. It's Desdemona.

* * *

DESDEMONA'S POV: Once Katniss and I defeat all the fake, yellow men, I smile. We did it. We did it well. I don't realize just how well until the clapping and cheering floods the room. Both of our heads snap towards the glass window, where almost all of the other tributes are standing. I see Haymitch in the crowd, smiling at Katniss, but then I notice Alejandro watching us with his arms crossed, shaking his head.

Katniss pats my shoulder before leaving the room and following Haymitch to another area of training. As they walk away, Haymitch turns around and gives me a thumbs up. In fact, many of the tributes seem surprised as they retreat to their own corners of the room. Alejandro, however, seems more pissed than anyone else.

"What the hell was that?" he growls, standing so close to me that I can feel his breath on my face.

"I'm training," I snarl back, "I suggest you do the same. You're going to need to know how to defend yourself."

"Are you threatening me, Summers?"

Before I can respond, I feel eyes on us. I look up at the luxurious booth, separated from us by an invisible force field, to see Plutarch Heavensbee staring down at us. Alejandro follows my gaze and almost immediately steps away.

"Whatever," he scoffs, and I hear him walk away, but my eyes are still locked with Heavensbee's. I tell myself it's not his fault, but I can't stop myself from hating him. Wishing he were dead too. He holds my gaze, but I know he knows what I'm thinking. Eventually, he turns back to the person sitting next to him, resuming the conversation they were having before.

Sighing deeply, I move on to learn a new skill.


	6. Chapter 6

**So, you may have noticed that the rating has changed from T to M. The reason for this is beginning now, there will be more sexual scenes. If sex, rape, and/or strong language bothers you, you might want to skip this chapter or find a different fanfiction. I will put a warning at the top of each chapter that contains M-rated material. This is one of those chapters.**

 **However, this is also a very important chapter because it shows a glimpse of Desdemona's relationship with her father and how traumatic his arrest was for her. And without giving anything away, there is another important plot point you'll be missing if you opt to skip this chapter.**

 **Though it is important, it is quite short, so I will probably be posting an additional chapter a little later.**

 **Chapter Five**

FLASHBACK: "Grip the knives like this," my father gently instructs me, arranging the knives between my fingers, "Good girl, Desdemona."

I am eight years old and tall for my age. I stand awkwardly around my peers. I am gawky and not quite pretty in my young age. I always stand out amongst my friends in a negative way, but with my father, I am comfortable and beautiful.

I spread my feet so that I am balanced, preparing to fling all six daggers forward into the wooden target that stands in the closet of his bedroom. Dad painted it to help teach me to use the knives, and it already has several dents and holes in it. I take a deep breath and try to steady my hand. Then I let the knives fly. Before five seconds has passed, all of them are stuck in the center of the target. I turn around to celebrate, but a loud bang of the door flying open fills the room. Several guards march into the bedroom and grab my father.

"Mr. Summers, you are arrested for treason," one recites while my father is dragged from the room.

"NO!" I scream as the guard continues, almost reading to me instead of my father, "DADDY! COME BACK! NO!"

"You are sentenced to death by hanging from a rope around the neck until dead," I hear the guard say, causing me to scream louder. I try to chase after him, but one of the other guards grabs me and restrains me.

"I love you, baby," my father shouts back to me, "I love you, and I'm so proud of you. Remember who the enemy is."

He was the first, but not the last, person the Capitol would take from me.

* * *

PRESENT: I slowly open my eyes. Glancing at the holographic clock next to my bed, I see that it is just past midnight. Today is the last day of training, and the end of the day will only bring the stress of being evaluated by the game makers. After two days of training, I am exhausted. I should not have woken up. Confused, I look around.

"Alejandro!" I exclaim, noticing him standing right next to my bed, "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Just couldn't sleep," he responds innocently yet menacingly as he slowly creeps into my bed.

"What are you doing?" I repeat, "Get the fuck out!"

I try to slide out of the bed from the other side, but he wraps his arm around my waist.

"Just go back to your bed," I plead helplessly, overcome by fear and disgust.

"No," he replies, "You've been such a bad girl. I think you need to be punished first."

I begin to squirm wildly as I feel his fingers graze my sex through my shorts. He rubs harder as he forces his hand in between my clenched thighs.

"Stop, please!" I beg, letting a few tears drip down my cheeks.

"It's a good thing these suites are sound proof," he whispers in my ear as if he is whispering sweet nothings to a lover as he climbs on top of me, "because you'll be screaming a lot."


	7. Chapter 7

**This chapter isn't graphic, but it does mention some of the aftermath of what happened with Alejandro in the previous chapter. Again, if the idea of rape bothers you, don't read this chapter.**

 **Chapter Six**

When I wake up the next morning, I can still feel the dried tears on my face, dried blood on my thighs and sheets, and dried semen on my stomach. But worst of all, I can still feel his breath over my defeated face when he whispered, "I hate you," with so much conviction that I could feel it radiating off of him. Not to mention the echoing slap when he found out I wasn't I virgin. I remember how I started crying when I remembered losing my virginity.

I roll my aching body off of the soiled bed and slowly move towards the shower. I wash off the evidence, but I can never erase the memory. I sigh as the hot water helps ease my burning muscles. Luckily, I still have a couple days to heal before the Games begins.

I am slow getting dressed and eating breakfast too. By the time I emerge from my bedroom, my attacker is already gone. Good. I feel dead and shattered inside as much as I do outside. I never wanted to have another man inside me after the first. I wanted to stay his forever in that simple way, but now Alejandro has taken that from me. Any chance of an alliance between us is gone.

I know that the rape wasn't a product of love or even lust. Alejandro just wants to have control over me. He is angry and evil, and I am broken. While I'm rightfully traumatized, I'm still embarrassed when Katniss catches me crying in the elevator.

* * *

That evening, all the tributes are pulled into a stuffy, metal room. I sit with Haymitch and Katniss, actively avoiding the leer Alejandro is shooting in my direction. Though he is across the room, he still feels too close. The three of us talk while the other tributes try to impress the game makers. Katniss has been oddly comforting all day since she found out I was raped. After she told him, Haymitch attempted to be comforting too, but I could tell how angry he is. Regardless, even though my emotions are on fire and aching, my body feels quite a bit better.

Finally, after what seems like hours, Haymitch is called into the room in which the game makers are waiting. I know that his biggest weapon is intelligence. However, I don't know what he's showing to the game makers. In a private conversation, he told me to throw little acts of rebellion in whenever possible. This is a prime opportunity to do something simple and rebellious as I heard Katniss did the year before. Haymitch told me all about how she shot an arrow into the game maker's box, but this year, it is protected by a force field. However, just the fact that I know how to throw knives so well is an act of rebellion on its own. It's a reminder of my father's treason.

A while later, Haymitch walks out with paint-covered hands and makes quick eye contact with us as Katniss' name is called. She squeezes my hand once before standing and leaving Alejandro and I alone. For the first few moments, I stare ahead, avoiding the lewd gaze coming from across the room. I nervously twist my hands together while hoping Katniss won't be too long. But then Alejandro stands and walks over to me. He sits down right next to me, and I scoot along the bench into the wall on the other side.

"Scared, princess?" he taunts, following me and trapping me.

"Don't call me princess," I growl. That was _his_ special name for me, and I won't let Alejandro use it as well. "And no, I'm not. They're watching us right now. There's cameras everywhere. You can't do anything to me."

"I can't do anything yet," he teases, "I-."

He's cut off by the door swinging open and Katniss reentering the room. She pauses for a moment, her eyes blazing as she glares at Alejandro. She doesn't make any move to leave the room until Alejandro's name is called. Once it is, he bumps his shoulder against hers as they pass each other. Then Katniss nods at me and leaves the room.

Alone, I can feel my heart pounding and stomach turning, but it isn't because of Alejandro. It's because of the game makers. I know that they can't do much worse to me now, but they can give me a bad score. I shake my head. Even if I get a bad score, I'll still have tons of sponsors because I know a lot of people in the Capitol, and they'll want to save one of their own citizens.

It is only minutes until Alejandro comes back into the room. As he crosses to the opposite door, he winks at me. I wait only a few more seconds before my name is called.

I shakily walk over to the door and push it open. It is heavier than I expected, and the air feels thicker as I try to move through it. I nearly gasp when I enter. Like in training, the game makers are sitting in a booth that overlooks the entire room. However, this is not what surprises me. On the ground, there is a painting of an African American child, whom I recognize as Rue, a little girl who died last Hunger Games. While the iconic symbol is recognizable, it isn't very good, but Haymitch isn't known for his artistic ability. He knew, however, that it would spark a reaction from Katniss. It makes sense. Katniss seemed to have a deep friendship with Rue, and I know that she blames the Capitol for her death. Without a doubt, this would inspire Katniss to spit in the Capitol's face.

Then I notice one of the dummies hanging by the neck above the floor painting. Written on the chest in bloody red berry juice is _his_ name: Seneca Crane.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Seven**

For a moment, I freeze as flashbacks flood my mind. Though he was several years older than me, my mother thought it would be a good idea for me to marry someone with strong connections to Snow. After what happened with my father, she saw it was a way to redeem the family's honor. Seneca's parents had known mine for a long time, so the marriage was arranged, but it never happened. Seneca was executed before we could even announce our engagement.

Despite the fact that our romance started forced and that he was almost exactly twice my age, we got along well. We even fell madly in love. For a few months after his death, I shut down. I barely ate, slept, or spoke until I learned to suppress my emotions. Now, I pretend that I never knew him, shutting down people's attempts at sympathy, but it's hard in situations like this.

Fueled by my burning anger at President Snow and everyone working under him, I snatch a handful of knives off of the table. Two of the people I love dearly were killed by the Capitol's government. I need to put everything I have into this rebellion. I fling all the knives forward into the center target stationed in the middle of the room. I fling them faster than I ever have before. I consider aiming at the game makers, but it will do nothing. They are protected by a force field now. Besides, just seeing that I can wield a weapon so well will remind them of my father. Everyone knows about him. His execution was publicly broadcasted. Snow made an example out of him.

When I run out of knives, my arms drop to my sides and I am frozen in place for another moment. What if Snow hadn't unfairly killed Seneca, and he was still the head game maker? Would I still be in the Games? Would he engineer circumstances to ensure that I would win? Ignoring the game maker's looks of shock, I retreat from the room, blinded by tears of rage.

* * *

Alejandro and I sit at the TV, watching the scores. We are sitting at opposite ends of the luxurious couch. I am hugging my knees to my chest while Alejandro is splayed out over the furniture, leering at me every few minutes. I try to ignore him as the TV begins to announce the scores that the tributes received during their private sessions.

They are announcing District 4's when Alejandro scoots closer to me and runs two fingers up my leg.

"What are you doing?" I ask, trying to slide farther away but being stopped by the arm of the leather couch.

"Why weren't you a virgin?" he wonders suddenly.

"None of your business," I snarl. I don't need to tell him anything, and I'm not about to give him details about my past.

"Who was he?"

"Fuck you."

"Feisty. Who was it?" he continues persistently, "The old, blond tribute you're always hanging around? Or is it someone more important? Cinna? You have a lot of influential friends. Snow? Heavensbee? No, probably someone younger…"

"Stop," I mutter weakly, "It's none of your fucking business."

I'm on the ground before I can even register the slap. I grip the nearby lamp to help me stand, but Alejandro pushes me back down. As I fall, I take the lamp with me, and it shatters loudly on the ground. The TV is broadcasting the scores for District 8.

"Tell me!" he demands.

"It doesn't matter! He's dead anyway!"

District 9.

"How'd he die?"

"Fuck you!"

District 10.

Alejandro kicks me in the stomach, causing me to cry out in pain.

"Stop," I sob helplessly.

District 11.

"Why does it matter to you anyway?" I ask, tears spilling down my cheeks. Slowly, he lowers himself onto my stomach. Then he leans forward so that he can whisper directly in my ear.

"Because you're mine," he hisses.

"The tributes from District 12 both received the first-ever perfect scores," the TV announces, getting our attention. We watch silently as both Haymitch and Katniss appear on the screen.

"From the Capitol," the announcer's voice continues, "Alejandro Diamond got a score of five, while Desdemona Summers also received a perfect score."

At first, I am in awe because I can't believe what I was awarded for a simple knife-throwing. But then the fear returns as Alejandro slowly turns his head towards me.

"Seneca Crane," he says lowly.

"What?"

"You lost your virginity to Seneca Crane," he repeats, "You saw that dummy Katniss hung, and you had to do something to show the game makers that you were strong and angry."

I let a few more tears slide down my cheeks before anger takes over. Amid the broken glass from the lamp, I start to squirm under Alejandro. I don't want him on me, and I know Seneca wouldn't either.

"Shut up!" I scream, putting all of my effort into getting him off of me.

"So, it's true. You were Crane's little whore before he got himself killed because of his weakness."

I know I'm not allowed to attack the other tributes before the Games, but I can't hold back my anger anymore. Besides, I have enough proof for self-defense. I pull back my fist and punch him in the mouth. He falls away from me, holding his bloody lip where my fist connected. Seeing my opportunity for escape, I kick him in between the legs and scramble to my feet. Standing over him, I pause to spit in his face.

"You'll never be half the man Seneca was."


	9. Chapter 9

**WARNING: This chapter contains sexual content. If this bothers you, skip the second half of this chapter. The first half is safe. If this doesn't bother you, enjoy ;)**

 **Chapter Eight**

Cinna doesn't explain much about my dress. It is big and white because Katniss is wearing a wedding dress as well. Katniss apparently is engaged to Peeta, and she is wearing the dress she would have been wearing for their wedding. Cinna never states it, but I know that mine is for Seneca. He is one of the few people who knows we were engaged.

He tells me to spin as Katniss will, and something will happen. I agree, but I don't have any other choice. The dress I'm wearing is just a bigger version of my previous outfit. My neck still looks like it is covered in frost, and my dress still snows when I walk.

I stand backstage, watching the monitor as Katniss begins to spin. Unlike the previous year, the sparks that are created don't remain at the hem. They travel up the dress until the entire gown is engulfed in flame. Then the wedding dress is gone. In its place, there is a very dark blue, thin dress that looks almost black.

The crowd is in awe, and time seems to stop when Katniss holds out her arms. Attached to her sleeves, fabric wings hang down. Everyone watching must recognize at once. The wings mimic those of a Mockingjay.

"Your stylist has outdone himself!" Caesar Flickerman exclaims amid the roar of the crowd. But then Katniss joins the other tributes. The moment is over, and it is my turn.

I twist my trembling fingers together as I make my way on stage. I'm not even put to ease by Caesar's familiar face. I hated him when I was younger because of his greedy publicity regarding my father's execution, and even for his involvement in my fiancé's. However, those things weren't his fault. He was just reaping the benefits.

"Now, I know you two have the same stylist," he begins, "but is there a particular reason for the similarity between Katniss' dress and yours?"

"Yes," I answer, "Katniss wore her dress for wedding she would have had with Peeta if not for the Hunger Games. Well, I'm wearing my dress for the wedding I would have had with Seneca Crane if not for Snow murdering him."

The words barely leave my mouth before the crowd bursts into cheers and applause. Many people try to yell messages to me while others whisper to the person sitting next to them. I know these people. They eat up this kind of news with more hunger than vultures with dead meat. The look on Caesar's face alone is enough to tell me that I just made a big announcement.

"But that's not all," I continue quickly before Caesar can ask any other questions. The crowd grows quiet, waiting to hear what I have to say, "My dress also does something when I spin."

"Does the Snow Queen's dress transform too?" he asks with a cheeky smile that I return.

"You'll just have to wait and find out."

"By all means then!" he exclaims, gesturing for me to spin, "I'm sure we're all very curious."

His words are punctuated with a loud collective cheering from the audience as I begin to spin. In one twirl, the gentle snowing of my dress turns into a blizzard the shields my entire body from view. When I finally stop spinning, the remaining snow drifts to the ground and I look down at myself. My breath catches in my throat, and my eyes widen. I'm as surprised as the audience.

I am now covered by a flowing, blue dress, but the blue is constantly moving. It floats in waves, and swirls all over the dress. I am more comfortable in blue than white, but this dress is so captivating. It is no longer snow, but instead it is now unmistakably…water. The fabric is translucent, as water is, but it still covers my body. I don't understand how it's possible, but my eyes aren't lying.

"Snow may be powerful and strong," I hear myself say before my mind can agree, "but everything and everyone has a weakness. When snow is faced with fire, it melts."

The crowd lets the words soak in for a moment before exploding into thunderous applause. They continue as I join Katniss and Haymitch upstage. The deafening noise continues as Alejandro takes the stage.

"Welcome, Alejandro," Flickerman greets. I imagine that, if their ages were closer together, they would be friends. They both seem attention-hungry and fake around big crowds. "Now, what do you think about what Desdemona said?"

"Well, I had no idea of the girl's involvement with Seneca Crane. I can only imagine what the poor thing is going through. After all, she's surrounded by his memory every day. I only wish she'd let me be there for her, but I understand why she would close herself off to another man in her life."

"I'm sure this news came as a surprise to all of Panem, but I was actually referring to how she explained her dress."

"I think that the Games and the loss of her fiancé have created in her a, pardon my language, rebelliousness that wasn't there before. I think she believes that she can take on Snow to avenge Crane. But she should not be blamed for her actions!" Alejandro adds quickly, "She's been thrown into darkness and insanity since Seneca's tragic demise. If she lives through the Games, someone needs to see that she gets the help that she needs."

As Alejandro leaves Caesar to join the rest of the tributes, the audience gives an unenthusiastic applause. Once we are all standing together, the crowd seems to go wild. Katniss grabs my hand suddenly. At first, I think it is a comforting gesture because maybe she can see how I'm trembling at Alejandro's words, but then I notice that all of the tributes are linked together. Before I could set aside my repulsion, Alejandro snatches my hand. Even though he forces his fingers to intertwine with mine, I fight not to pull away.

Then all twenty-six tributes raise their connected hands in a sign of unity. We will not be destroyed by Snow.

* * *

That night, I sit against my door as I slip in and out of sleep. I'm actively avoiding Alejandro, but I still don't trust that he won't come into my room again. I don't need to be raped the day before the Games.

Glancing at the clock across the room, I see that it is five o' clock in the morning. I still have an hour before I need to wake up, but I'm not tired. I'm too anxious.

I slept a little bit, but for much of the night, I've been trying to get comfortable against the door. My night shirt is soaked in sweat, and my back is aching, but I refuse to climb into the bed. Alejandro is probably asleep, but I can't risk it.

Sighing, I pick myself up off of the ground and head towards the bathroom. The fluorescent lights blind me as I close the door and lock it. I am relieved that it locks, but it's the only door in the penthouse that does, besides Alejandro's bathroom I suspect. I peel off my shirt and shorts before combing my greasy, purple hair and turning on the shower. Once I am completely stripped, I step into the cold water.

Watching the cooling liquid cascading over my body, I finally feel safe. Of course, I am still anxious about the Games, but for a moment the water is my escape. It brings back so many fond memories. I didn't lose my virginity in the shower, but it was one of the many locations Seneca had made love to me.

I was waking up one morning after sleeping over his house. My mother had agreed reluctantly, but I think she was thrilled that we were getting along so well. Besides, she realized that I would be sleeping with him every night once we got married. When my eyes fluttered open, I noticed that he wasn't still sleeping next to me. I got up and saw the bathroom door was closed with light and steam spilling through the gap between the wood and the ground. I knew he was taking a shower, and though I'd seen him naked, it didn't feel right to invade his privacy in that moment. But the steam looked so warm and comfortable and tempting, and I wanted to be in Seneca's arms again.

I rolled out of bed and walked across the soft carpet. I knocked softly on the door and waited for a reply.

"Come in, darling," his soft voice replied, "Come and join me."

So I did. I was already undressed, so I simply climbed into the shower with him. The water was warm, but it was his embrace that heated me. We started kissing, and he pressed me against the cold tile wall. I could feel him in between my legs. So hard. So long. I wanted it, so I rolled my hips against his with a weak whimper. He liked that I only showed my vulnerable, desperate side to him.

"Beg me," he hissed, his lips barely separating from mine. And I did. I let words I'd never thought I'd say spill from my lips. I was blinded by need, but I didn't regret anything. When I'd finally begged enough, he gave taking a shower a new meaning. I never thought of taking a shower as anything less than perfect and euphoric again.

And even now, as the water cools my sweat-soaked body, I couldn't feel happier. As I begin to feel a comfort I haven't felt since the last Hunger Games, my eyelids grow heavy with the need to sleep I've been neglecting for the past nine hours. Bending my knees and lowering myself to the refreshing ground, I slip into my subconscious.


	10. Chapter 10

**This chapter is slightly shorter, so I will be posting another in a few minutes. I hope you enjoy!**

 **Chapter Nine**

"Desdemona! Desdemona!"

I wake up to the sound of my name. As I cough up water, I notice that the shower has been turned off, and the fogged glass has been slid back. I watch as the inches of water retreat down the drain. Alejandro is crouched next to the side of the shower, hand on my cheek. I react immediately, jerking away, but there isn't enough room in the cramped shower to move very far.

My eyes scan the room, looking for his point of entry. Finally, they land on the metal door that is slightly ajar. I look back at Alejandro in panic.

"That was locked," I whisper, but he chuckles at me.

"You think I don't know how to pick a lock?"

"Why would you? I don't. That's not a standard skill taught in the Capitol."

"Well, desperate times…" he replies, letting his eyes travel over my naked body. I shift uncomfortably, but there is nothing close enough to cover me.

"Get out," I growl.

"You almost just drowned. I saved you. I believe a thank you would be more appropriate."

"Why did you save me anyway?"

"Well, I couldn't let my little pet die like this, could I?" he asks, running his fingers through my wet locks.

"Get out," I repeat, narrowing my eyes at him.

"You can act tough," he whispers to me, "And after the little stunt you pulled the other night, which gave me this black eye, I bet you believe that you are. But don't forget who has the power here."

"I'm going to die in the Games anyway."

Alejandro pauses for a moment before responding.

"Not while I'm still alive."

* * *

I anxiously adjust my clothing, waiting in the stuffy room. Cinna already came to say goodbye. He pulled me into a quick hug and whispered, "Your father would be proud." I nodded, fighting not to cry as he left the room.

Then Effie came in and handed me a golden ring. She told me that it was to symbolize the alliance between Haymitch, Katniss, me, and another tribute I know as Finnick. But then she paused.

"Your mother didn't want me to tell you this," she informed, eyeing the beautiful, gold band that was dotted with diamonds, "but that would have been your wedding ring."

Once I got over the initial shock, Effie held me as I sobbed hysterically.

Now, I sit alone with dried tears on my cheeks. Fingering the beautiful ring, I look up at the ceiling. I imagine the bright, blue sky instead of the stainless steel that makes me feel like a caged animal. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, I begin to whisper to the only person I can truly share my feelings with.

"Seneca," I breathe, not caring if the room is being monitored, "I don't know if you can hear me, but I need help. Not to stay alive. I've lost everything and have no desire to live anymore. I've made peace with my eminent death, but please give me strength. I'm scared, and I need to maintain my sanity. I cannot die in vain. Please help me die an honorable death for a noble reason, as you did. And…"

I don't have a chance to finish before a robotic voice sounds over the speakers. It tells me to step forward into the glass chamber that will take me into the world of the Games. Sighing and pulling my tear-filled eyes away from the ceiling, I step into the chamber. The automated voice begins counting down from sixty. I know from watching the Games in the past that if I step off my platform early, I'll be blown to pieces by a landmine. I'm tempted, but I haven't even opened my eyes yet. I don't want to see the arena. The cornucopia. The other tributes. If I open my eyes, everything will just be real. With them closed, I can just pretend that I'm alone with Seneca.

FIVE

I try to keep my breathing even as the voice gets closer to zero.

FOUR

I feel my hands begin to tremble, so I knit my fingers together. I hear a faint sound, but I can't tell what it is. It could be wind rustling tree leaves, or the sound of waves crashing, or just a sigh that I don't realize I'm releasing.

THREE

I tell myself to be strong. Be strong for Seneca. He wouldn't have wanted you to die without fighting. Don't forget his memory; use it.

TWO

I bring my ring to my lips and whisper, "I love you."

ONE

My eyes flash open, and I'm immediately blinded by the rays of sunlight piercing my eyes like knives. Squinting, I glance around at the arena. I, like all of the other tributes, are standing near a rocky island in the middle of a large lake. The water is surrounded by a beach, and beyond that, a rainforest. This would certainly be interesting.


	11. Chapter 11

**I hope everyone is having a good holiday. Before I forget, I've been making trailers for my fanfictions on youtube. The video for 'Killin' Em' is at watch?v=EDWKPy4FS4w**

"Let the 75th annual Hunger Games begin, and may the odds be ever in your favor."

Then the cannon sounds, and all the tributes launch off of their platforms. In between each set of tributes, there is a strip of rock that leads to the cornucopia in the middle. Without hesitating, I dive into the cool water and swim to the nearby leg of land. In the Capitol, we are taught how to swim simply for recreational purposes. That is not the case for the Districts.

District 4 tributes can swim fine, since their District specializes in seafood and other nautical items. I notice that Katniss can swim as well, which doesn't make too much sense considering her District revolves around mining coal, but somehow I don't question it too much. In my mind, Katniss can do anything. However, we're the only ones who appear to have an easy time swimming to land.

It takes me a minute, but when I make it to the rocks, I scramble onto them. As I stand, I come face to face with Katniss. We make quick eye contact, and I notice hers are red and puffy, as if she had just been crying, but then we charge towards the cornucopia to collect our weapons. As we approach, I locate my mini daggers on the table. I reach to grab them when a hand swoops in my way. With eyes blazing, I look up to see who has stolen my knives. I'm not at all surprised to see Alejandro.

What does surprise me is that he isn't smirking. His face is covered in terror now that he's facing the reality of the Games. I know immediately after looking at him why he's taken my knives. He knows that I'm capable of killing him with a flick of my wrist, and he knows I have more than enough motivation to do so. Perhaps that's why he saved me the night before. He was trying to get on my good side after he raped me. Maybe he would even turn it around so that I owe him a favor.

"Are you crazy?" I ask, voice filled with panic. I don't get an answer as Alejandro grabs my arm, pulling me with him towards the beach.

"Stop!" I yell, but he only speeds up. Unable to break away, I chase after him into the surrounding rainforest. We run for a while, but when he decides that we're far enough away from the other tributes, he stops and releases me.

"What the hell?!" I shout, fighting the temptation to bruise his other eye.

"We needed to get out of there."

"There is no 'we'! You raped me! I don't want to have anything to do with you. Give me my knives now, and I'll let you run away."

"No," he replies, "Your knives are the only reason you're still here. If I give them back, you'll leave and get yourself killed."

"We're going to die anyway, and I will not die a coward. I will die with honor."

"Like Seneca did?" he mocks.

"Don't talk about him like that!" I snarl, shoving him, "Don't talk about him like he disgraced the Capitol! He was a hero who died for something he believed in!"

"Oh really?" Alejandro taunts, chuckling, "And what would that be?"

I slap him across the face, blinded by anger. While he's still in shock, I kick his feet out from underneath him. As he lays on the ground, I lean down and snatch my knives back.

"Love," I answer before running away, through the trees.

I run, not caring who I run into or where I end up. I just need to get away from that monster. As I run, my feet pound against the ground and crack the occasional twig. When I am content with the distance I've put between me and Alejandro, I slow and start paying attention to the amount of noise I'm making. Hunched over, I take deep breaths, willing my heartrate to slow. I jump when I hear the snap of a branch nearby.

In a second, my hand is up, poised and ready to throw the knives. I stare ahead, but a hand covers my mouth from behind. As I'm turned around, a muffled yelp escapes my throat. I struggle to raise my knives, but my wrist is restrained. But then I recognize my captor.

"Calm down, sweetheart," he says, releasing me. I stagger a few steps away, but I feel much less anxious.

"Haymitch," I sigh, "You scared me."

"That much was obvious."

Behind him stands Katniss, Finnick, and Mags, an ancient woman who came with Finnick from District 4. Personally, I'm glad that she's on our team. If she wasn't, I'm not sure I'd be able to kill her.

"Effie gave you the ring?" Haymitch asks. I nod as my fingers find it.

"Was it…" Katniss begins, seeing the pain in my eyes, but she trails off.

"It was supposed to be my wedding ring, yes."

Finnick rolls his eyes.

"This is all really touching, your tragic love story with the man who killed a bunch of children for a living, but we need to get moving," he says, "We need to find a place to camp before nightfall."

His words shock me, but I don't argue. His insults about Seneca aside, he has a point. It is getting late.

"You're right," I mutter, looking down, "I'm sorry."

He doesn't answer but sets off deeper into the rainforest with us following closely behind.


	12. Chapter 12

**Hi everyone! I'm not going to make excuses about taking so long to update because the one excuse I have is really dumb. So, I'll just say I'm sorry and that I'll try to not take months to update in the future haha.**

 **So in this chapter, you'll get to see a little more of Desdemona's past. I hope you enjoy!**

 **Chapter Eleven**

My back is pressed against the rough tree bark as the others sleep. Katniss stayed up with me at first, but she fell asleep and is now resting her head on my shoulder. I don't mind nor do I wake her up. I need to be alone with my thoughts. Looking up at the stars, I can almost imagine Seneca's smiling face or his gentle voice. He is watching over me without a doubt. I miss him so much. I can still remember our first date.

I didn't want to go out with the evil man I only knew from his manipulation of the Hunger Games. Only six years after my father's death, I didn't want anything to do with the Capitol. But my mother, the puppeteer of our meeting, dressed me up in a feathery, blue dress and piled my purple locks on top of my head. She told me it made me look classy and mature. Then she sent me off to meet a man more than twice my age.

To me, age wasn't a problem. It never had been, and it still isn't now. My problem with Seneca was that he was the head game maker. The man who played a one-person game for the public's enjoyment by using children as his pawns. Not only that, but he worked directly for Snow, which made him just as responsible for my father's death in my eyes.

I sat across from him in the leather booth with my arms crossed. We were dining at one of the fanciest restaurants in the Capitol, and we were being treated like royalty. But I didn't care. I wanted to be far away from this place, this man. He made conversation. He asked me how I was, if I knew certain people, what I liked in terms of hobbies and books. He'd avoided talking about the Hunger Games, which I was grateful for, but I still only answered his questions in curt, one-word answers. He moved onto telling me about his own life. I rolled my eyes dramatically and bit my tongue when I felt like laughing, but he only continued.

When the waiter came to take our orders, Seneca ordered for me. As I opened my mouth to tell the waiter what I wanted, Seneca interrupted me.

"She'll have the lobster," he said. I glared at him, but when he smiled back at me, I felt my face soften. Besides, I was about to order the same thing myself.

"I'm sorry about your father," he continued once the waiter left, reaching across the table and touching my forearm. I studied him suspiciously, but then I realized that he was being genuine.

"Thank you," I choked, uncrossing my arms. We were in public, so I couldn't express my frustration with the Capitol for killing him. But the fact that Seneca remembered what had happened with my father and had the decency to acknowledge it made me realize that he wasn't the monster I made him out to be. Then he took it a step farther.

"Tell me about him."

So I did. I talked about the night he was taken away from me, about how he'd give me advice, the games he'd play with me, and about his own interests. I even talked about the time he made me laugh so hard that I'd literally peed myself. Seneca smiled and laughed at all the right times, and none of it seemed forced. In addition, he never spoke about my father as if he was a criminal, like everyone else in the Capitol did. To him, my father was nothing more than the co-maker and best friend of his future wife. It made me respect and trust him.

As we ate our fancy seafood, we moved away from my father. Seneca had achieved his goal of getting me to be more conversational, so we could talk about other things. We jumped from one topic to the next without any awkward lulls. We talked so much, in fact, that it took us nearly three hours to finish our meal.

"I was kind of worried about this," he admitted, taking a bite of the crème brûlée we were sharing, "since you're so young. I agreed to it for my mother's sake, but you're more mature than any teenager I've ever met."

I laughed.

"I'm serious," he continued, smiling, "I don't see you as a child. I see you as a beautiful, young woman."

My laughter subsided, but my smile remained. I could feel my eyes twinkling happily as he took my hand.

"I think fate had a bigger hand in arranging our marriage than our parents did," he whispered.

After dinner, he took me back to his mansion. We walked, fingers laced together, through the dark, lush grass of his garden. Moonshine filtered through the leaves of the trees as we sat on a stone bench. It was getting late, and I was exhausted, so I rested my head on his shoulder, making him smile and wrap an arm around my waist.

"There's something you need to understand," he told me, stroking my cheek and lifting my chin so that he could meet my eye, "I do what I do for the Games to appease Snow. If I don't do my job the way he wants, he'll kill me. I have to do it, especially now that I have someone to live for."

I nodded, but he'd already seen the moonlight reflect off of my threatening tears. He tilted my chin further and pressed his lips against mine. It was my first kiss, and it was perfect. Full of passion and love.

I sniffle, leaning against the tree, still looking up at the stars with Katniss' head on my shoulder. I don't even realize I'm about to cry until my vision becomes clouded. But wait…


	13. Chapter 13

**Here, I'm giving you two in one night because I feel bad about neglecting this fanfiction. I hope you enjoy!**

 **Chapter Twelve**

I scramble to my feet, pulling Katniss with me. Normal fog doesn't move like that. It doesn't smell like regular fog either, I discover as I inhale through my nose. Katniss' eyes flutter open as I pull her body off of the ground. She doesn't ask any questions when her eyes land on the fog, she just drops to her knees and begins waking up Mags.

"Finnick," I call, shaking him awake, "Finnick, you need to get up."

"What's going on?" he asks, sitting up and rubbing his eyes, but I'm now moving onto Haymitch, who is already beginning to stir. I'm only beginning to shake his shoulders when his eyes open and he stands up.

Suddenly, Katniss lets out a little shriek and falls away from the fog that is still moving quickly. She apparently reached out to touch it, and her skin is now red and blistering.

"Run!" she yells, "The fog is poisoned."

We all start running, Finnick pulling Mags onto his back. We run as fast as we can, but the fog is still faster. Our frantic heartbeats match the thud of our feet on the ground. The fog licks our heels and moves to surround us. We pause only for a moment to find a new path, but then we sprint ahead.

A few yards to the right, I catch a glimpse of another figure sleeping against a tree. Alejandro. I hesitate, but as much as I want him dead, I can't leave him like this. I redirect my course so that I'm charging right at him. Without the time to wake him gently, I slap him across the face and scream at him to run, that the fog is poisoned. As he scrambles, wide-eyed, to his feet, I turn to rejoin my group, but there is a wall of fog in my way. I can only stare in shock and confusion before Alejandro grabs my wrist, pulling me away from it.

We run, but I waited too long. The fog engulfs my right foot. I cry out in pain and stumble forward. A few more steps send us falling down the side of a cliff. The slope isn't too steep, and we simply tumble to the bottom, relatively unscathed. Then a canon sounds.

"Alejandro?" I whisper, lying next to his body at the bottom of the cliff.

"Yes," he answers. I bite my lip, keeping back tears. Partially because someone from my group is likely dead, but also because my foot feels like it is on fire.

"Come on," Alejandro says, standing as the fog begins to roll down the slope, "We need to go."

"I can't walk," I choke, the pain from my foot possessing my entire self. I can barely breathe or move. All I'm aware of is the raging pain that is rolling through my body, radiating from my foot. It clouds my mind, making my vision swim with black spots.

I'm about to pass out.

No, I'm about to die.

Then my mind registers something else. My eyes are screwed shut in pain, but I feel two strong arms scooping me up. The next thing I know, I'm submerged in water, and the pain ebbs until it is gone completely.

"Shh," Alejandro whispers, "It's alright. You'll be fine."

He moves to stroke my wet hair, but I pull away abruptly. I hate having his hands on me, but that's not the complete reason for moving away so quickly.

"How did you know to go to the water? How did you know it would help?" I demand.

"Oh, that's right, Mrs. Crane," he spits, "You think you're the only one who knows influential people in the Capitol. Well, I'll have you know that my father is one of the engineers that helped develop that fog. He talked about his work often, knowing I was interested in the things he was creating."

"That would have been helpful to know before," I growl, "What else did he make?"

"A lot of things, but there's no reason I should tell you about any of it."

In a flash, I whip out a knife from one of the pockets of my water suit and hold it up to his neck.

"Aren't you wondering where the fog is?" he speaks calmly, but I don't miss the glint of fear in his eyes. Once he mentions it, however, I realize that I do wonder where the fog is. Why isn't it following us onto the water? But I remain silent, glaring at him. He opens his mouth to elaborate when three figures splash into the water a few feet to our left. I look over and breathe a sigh of relief. Katniss and Haymitch are both fine. It appears that Mags is the only one not with them. Sad, but not unpredictable. Also, unavoidable. It is better that she's already dead; now I don't have to be the one to kill her. Forgetting about Alejandro, I swim over to my group.

"Desdemona!" Katniss exclaims, "You're alright! We…we were waiting for your canon. Where did you go?"

I look behind me at Alejandro, who is already headed towards the shore.

"Oh."

"Yeah. Where did the fog go?" I wonder.

"I'm not sure. There was some kind of force field."

Then I see a metal tin floating towards me, slightly chiming. I grab it and eagerly open it. I don't need anything specific right now, but anything is welcome. Contained inside is a sizable piece of lobster, still steaming. Lobster is one of my favorite foods, and my stomach growls in response. I didn't even realize I was hungry until I see it. Without hesitating, I devour it savagely until it is nothing but a memory. Then I look at the attached paper.

'I still think fate had a bigger hand in arranging our marriage than our parents did,' it read. And it was signed: Seneca Crane.


	14. Chapter 14

**Hi everyone! Happy Friday (almost). I hope you all have a wonderful weekend. This chapter is a little shorter, but I hope you enjoy.**

 **Chapter Thirteen**

My head and heart pound in sync as I run once more. Every few moments, I turn and launch a knife back at one of the demon monkeys roaring behind me. Katniss, Finnick, and Haymitch run with me, fighting off the primates as well. I'm not paying attention to where we're going. All I know is that we have to get back to the beach. Suddenly, something jumps out of a nearby tree and tackles one of the apes. Or someone does. Someone covered in black paint?

"Who is that?" Katniss asks as the person gasps for breath.

"A morphling," Haymitch answers. They help her to her feet and start to drag her away while Finnick and I continue fighting off the screeching monkeys. We battle for a few moments more before following our group.

The apes, like the fog, chase closely after us, nicking our heels. However, we miraculously make it to the beach seconds before they catch up with us. The animals stop abruptly as we hit the sand, as if they are also stopped by a force field.

We bring the morphling into the water as she continues struggling to breathe. We do our best to comfort her, telling her to relax and watch the sunrise. After all, she saved our lives, but all of us know she won't make it. When she pounced on the monkey, it slashed open her throat. In addition to not being able to breathe, the woman is losing blood fast. There's nothing any of us can do. When she stops gasping and her eyes turn stony, we lay her in the water as the canon sounds. Not a moment later, the monkeys gathered at the tree line turn and scamper back into the jungle.

I tear through another delivered lobster apparently from Seneca while the other three eat raw fish that Finnick caught. I feel bad for eating my fancy seafood in front of them, but they didn't accept my offers to share.

"It was sent for you," Haymitch told me, "I seriously doubt Crane would have wanted to feed all of us."

It makes no sense though. How can Seneca have sent me food? I saw his dead body. I laid next to it, sobbing, before his funeral. He did not fake his death. He would have found some way to communicate with me if he's still alive. Either someone is falsely signing the cards, or…or Seneca knew I'd be reaped for the Games this year and he'd planned ahead. But he couldn't have. He would have told me.

Despite my thoughts, I find myself smiling as I think about the day he proposed. We were walking through his garden at night, as we had on our first date and many nights in between. Standing amongst a sea of roses, he pulled his hand away from mine. At first, I panicked, thinking I'd done something wrong or he was starting to get bored with me. But then, with a smirk, he got down on one knee.

"Don't get used to this," he joked, "I don't ever plan on kneeling before you again."

I knew before I even met him that he liked being in control. I hadn't been sure how much I would like having a dominant husband, but I found out quickly that I loved it. I loved everything about him. I giggled at his joke before he grew serious.

"Desdemona Rose Summers," he began, "I know that, without our parents, our paths never would have crossed. I know we were brought together under unfortunate circumstances, but I love you. When I was little, my mother used to read me those old fairytales. The ones from before the dark days. After everything that's happened, I thought they were nonsense. There were no happily ever afters. There was no true love. Not in the real world. But now I know how wrong I was. You're my true love, Desdemona. You're my happily ever after. Will you marry me?"

I smiled and lowered myself onto the knee that was propped up. I pressed my lips against Seneca's and wrapped my arms around his neck. While one of his arms circled my waist, the other weaved through my hair to deepen the kiss.

"Yes," I whispered when I was able to pull away for long enough.

I'm brought back from my thoughts by a loud shriek coming from the other side of the water. We look over just in time to see several trees crash down, creating a giant wave. However, it tapered off before it got to us. We were safe.

But for how long?


	15. Chapter 15

**WARNING: This chapter contains sexual content. If this bothers you, skip to the end of the italicized section. If not, I hope you enjoy ;)**

 **Chapter Fourteen**

 _It's the first night Mother finally agreed to let me spend the night at Seneca's mansion. We argued about it, but in the end, she realized I'll be sleeping there every night after the marriage._

 _I barely make it through the front door of his house before Seneca grabs me and kisses me. I giggle as he presses me up against the wall directly next to the door._

 _"_ _Seneca!" I chuckle as he begins kissing my neck, "Wait until after dinner at least!"_

 _"_ _I'd rather have dessert first," he hisses against my collarbone. I can feel his beard scraping against my soft skin, and I have no choice but to succumb to my own burning desires._

 _"_ _I've never…" I begin softly, but Seneca cuts me off._

 _"_ _I know. I should hope not. You're mine. All mine. I wouldn't have been pleased if another man had been inside you. I'll be gentle, I promise."_

 _I breathe a sigh of relief. I don't think he'd ever hurt me, but I'm glad he's aware that I'm still a virgin._

 _"_ _I don't want to lose my virginity in your entry hall though," I add, making him smirk. He lets his hands run down my sides to my lower back. I shudder as his palms ghost over my behind to cup the backs of my thighs. Then he lifts me, and I wrap my legs around him as he carries me to his bedroom. His body is so warm and firm against mine that I can't help but grind against him. He moans softly in my ear as he lays me on his big, fluffy bed._

 _He kneads my breasts through my feathery, green dress but growls in frustration when he tries to remove it._

 _"_ _It's hard to get off," I tell him._

 _"_ _Yes, I know."_

 _But then, he rips it down the middle. My gasp and the sound of shredding fabric echo. The cool air hits my now exposed chest, but I'm staring in horror at my dress. It's ruined, and there are feathers everywhere._

 _"_ _Don't worry," he tells me, cupping my cheek tenderly, "I'll buy you a new one. When we're married, you can have any dress you want."_

 _I smile, but he's already returned to my body, kissing and nipping at my flesh. His hand falls in between my legs, where he circles my clit with his thumb. I whimper loudly. No one has ever touched me here before, and I haven't even touched myself in this way. It creates a strange sensation in my lower stomach, like a coil winding tighter and tighter with every rotation of Seneca's thumb. Apparently, it's visible on my face because he chuckles and pulls away his hand._

 _"_ _No!" The voice that comes from my throat doesn't sound like my own. It is high-pitched and desperate._

 _"_ _Aww," he taunts, making my body need him more, "Do you want me to keep going?"_

 _I nod, feeling my eyes plead with him._

 _"_ _Beg me," he whispers, leaning in to kiss me again._

 _I do, and he continues, though much slower. Almost torturously slow. He smirks as a squirm, the coil winding tighter and tighter. When it snaps, I have to cover my mouth to keep from moaning too loudly. My toes curl and I tremble against him. When it ends, I'm panting._

 _"_ _How did that feel, darling?" he asks. I can only nod because I have no words to describe the feeling of pure euphoria I just experienced. "Good girl."_

 _"_ _I want another," I say, making him smile. He makes me orgasm with his fingers two more times before undoing his pants and pulling out his cock. My eyes widen when I see it; I've never seen one before. And his is so long._

 _"_ _That's all going inside me?" I ask._

 _"_ _As much as you can take," he chuckles, "Don't worry. I'll be as gentle as possible."_

 _I nod as he positions himself at my entrance. He sits me up so that I can bury my head in his chest. Even though I am completely naked, he's still almost completely clothed, and I hide my face inside his suit jacket. He strokes my back while he pushes into me, and I let out a whine. I can feel him stretching me and pushing through my hymen. It hurts, but he's going slowly, and the pain fades quickly. When it has passed completely, Seneca grabs my chin and forces my head up and out of his suit._

 _"_ _I want to see your pretty face while I fuck you," he whispers._

* * *

"I thought it was rain!" Johanna Mason screams in anger as she staggers onto the beach. It's the first I've seen of her since we were thrown into the arena, and she is now covered in a red, thick liquid. Two other people emerged from the rainforest with her. Wiress and Beetee from District 3. Both are extremely smart, but they don't fight much. Johanna, on the other hand, I remember when she won. She'd fooled all the other competitors into thinking she was a weakling only to be one of the most ferocious. I respected her.

"I thought it was water," she continues, "But when it started coming down, it turned out to be blood! Thick, hot blood. We were choking on it! That's when Blight hit the force field. He wasn't much, but he was from home."

"I'm sorry," I say.

"Desdemona Summers," she drawls, her eyes suddenly snapping to me. At first, I think she's going to hurt me. Maybe even try to kill me. She's made it no secret that she's angry at the Capitol. But then she smirks. "I like your hair."

That's it?

I raise one of my eyebrows, but she just continues to smile at me. Maybe it's because she's angry at Snow in particular, and she knows I am too. I'm about to respond when another voice cuts through the air.

"Tick tock," Wiress is whispering. Katniss is quick to gently grab her arms and lead her to the water.

"Let's get you cleaned up," she says, scooping a handful of water and rinsing Wiress' hair. Johanna goes to the water herself, washing the thick blood off of her skin next to Beetee. Haymitch, Finnick, and I stand on the sand, unable to do much except watch as a giant tree on the other side of the water is struck by lightning.

"Tick tock! Tick tock!" Wiress cries, trembling in Katniss' arms.

"Tick tock," Katniss whispers in return, looking around at the arena, "Tick tock...it's a clock! It's a clock! Wiress, you're a genius!"

The tribute from District 3 smiles proudly at the compliment while Katniss brings them to shore.

"The arena is a clock," Katniss explains, and Haymitch is already nodding.

"Each hour, there's something new in each wedge of the arena. Lightning, blood rain, fog, monkeys. Those are the first four hours. The giant wave is at ten."

"What are the rest?" I wonder out loud, "What could they possibly be?"

"I don't know," grumbles Haymitch, "The game makers can be very creative."

"Well, it's almost two now, right?" Johanna asks.

"One-thirty, exactly," Beetee replies.

"At two, the poison fog starts," I say, "So we need to move somewhere safe."

"I'd like to go to the cornucopia and watch," says Finnick, "To make sure we're right about this whole clock thing."

"That's a good idea," I add, "I'm almost out of knives. Even though I like the small ones, there are probably others up there."

So we go cautiously, keeping an eye out for the Careers. As we walk, Johanna tells me and Katniss about how Beetee went up to the cornucopia to get a spool of wire that I didn't even realize he was carrying. When he went up, he was attacked by another tribute and got cut.

"I don't know what we think is going to stop them from coming after us this time," she snarls, rolling her eyes. When we reach the cornucopia, Beetee hands Wiress his wire and asks her to clean it. She agrees happily and while she does, she is singing a song about a clock. It's a nursery rhyme I recognize from preschool, but it annoys Johanna.

"Oh, no! Not the song again!" she complains dramatically.

"Just ignore it," I say, "It's not very loud, and we can talk over it if you'd like."

Because the knives and axes are so close to each other in the cornucopia, we are further away from the others, who are watching the two o'clock wedge.

"Did Haymitch talk to you?" she hisses so that the others can't hear. I realize that we're on camera, so she has to be vague.

"Yeah, just about casual stuff," I reply, "And then obviously when we decided to be allies."

I don't give her any information that should stand out, but I see a small smile ghost over her lips.

"Of course."

Then we hear a gasp and whirl around. Gloss is crouched behind Wiress, plunging a blade into her back. My eyes widen, but I can do nothing to help her. She's already dead. As Gloss stands, he lets Wiress slip into the water before approaching us. I haven't even lifted my hand before Katniss sends an arrow through his heart. However, when I catch Cashmere running up to Katniss from behind, I send a knife flying in her direction.

It's one of the newer ones, and it's much heavier. The first knife misses, but I recover and another follows quickly after it. Unfortunately, she has time to react. She takes a step back, and the second knife slices her cheek open. Regardless, Cashmere is no longer trying to hurt Katniss. She's too concerned with her own self-preservation. I take a few steps, readying one more knife. I let it fly, and it buries itself in her chest.

Three loud canons go off before I see two others racing in our direction. Brutus and Enobaria, the tributes from District 2 and the other half of the Career pack, are running towards us. Katniss readies an arrow, aiming to shoot, as I'm aiming my knives. Johanna lifts her axe in the air. Between the three of us, we can kill these two right now. As if they realize it, they retreat down a rocky leg towards the beach. We take a step after them, but the ground jerks under our feet.

With a squeal, I drop to the ground. My hand lands on one of my blades, which slices my skin. It isn't too deep, but it stings. It's when Johanna drops her axe on my pinkie finger that I let out a shriek.

"Oh my god!" she gasps, looking down at my severed finger in horror, "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to!"

I glance at my pinkie, laying on the ground, and then at my hand, one finger short. Then I feel bile rise in my throat. I lose the lobster I ate earlier, and I grow dizzy. Before I realize what's happening, Haymitch is on the ground in front of me, wrapping my hand in a piece of cloth he ripped from his sleeve.

"You're fine," he says without a hit of compassion or sympathy in his voice. Good. I don't want pity, and if he doesn't make a big deal of this, I can pretend it isn't, "It's your left hand. You throw with your right. Injuries happen."

I nod, willing my eyes to focus. Then the ground jerks again. Beetee walks over and glances at my hand. He too gets sick. Finnick can't look at it for more than a second.

"Des," Johanna continues with wide eyes, "I'm seriously sorry."

I feel Katniss' hand on my back, comforting me. It's this, along with the others, which makes me angry.

"I'm fine!" I snap, much harsher than I mean to, "It sucks, but this is the Hunger Games. People get hurt, and people die. I'm thankful that I'm only losing a finger and not my life. Just because I'm from the Capitol doesn't mean I need to be babied!"

Johanna stops talking, and Katniss removes her hand. Haymitch finishes tying the cloth around my hand to stop the bleeding when the island jerks once more, this time quite violently. But it doesn't just jerk. It begins to spin.

Even though Haymitch, Katniss, and I are on the ground already, we flatten ourselves out. The other three lay on the ground as the speed of the spinning island increases. Somehow, I manage to push my knives safely inside my jump suit, where they'd been before. Even with both hands free, I find it hard to hang onto the slippery rocks with only nine fingers. I feel myself start to slip around the same time Katniss does.

In between us is Johanna, who's looking back and forth at us in horror.

She can only save one of us, and it really shouldn't be me. Making a quick decision, Johanna reaches her hand out to Katniss. The girl on fire clings to the hand as I feel myself fly into the water.

Good choice.

Maybe I can finally join Seneca.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Fifteen**

When my eyes open again, I'm looking up at a palm tree. I can feel the sand beneath me and hear the waves lapping at the shore. I'm not dead. I'm still in the arena. But my body aches and my hand is in agony.

I can't seem to remember why.

I turn my head and glance at it. The four fingers bring tears to my eyes but I blink them away quickly. Unfortunately, Johanna has noticed.

"Hey, she's awake," she says dryly. I can tell that she still feels bad.

"How are you feeling?" asks Katniss as I sit up.

"I'm fine!" I reply a little too cheerily. I just don't want them to pity me, "What happened?"

"You were tossed into the water and lost consciousness," answers Finnick, "After the spinning stopped, we found you and dragged you to shore."

"We weren't sure you were still alive," says Beetee, "But there was no canon, and your heart was still beating. We assumed that you would die quickly."

"Who's still alive?"

"Brutus and Enobaria got away before the spinning started," Haymitch responds, "So they're still alive. And Chaff from District 11."

"Alejandro is still alive too," adds Katniss.

"We need to get rid of him," Finnick growls.

"He has valuable information," I mention. Finnick opens his mouth to argue when, from the forest behind us, there is a shrill scream of a little girl.

"Katniss!" it screams, "Katniss, help me!"

It's not unfamiliar. The entire Capitol would recognize that scream from Katniss' little sister. She made a very similar sound when Katniss volunteered the previous year.

"Prim?" Katniss yelled back, terror in her eyes. She scrambles to her feet and scampers off into the forest. "Prim!"

We hear her echoing shriek.

Then we all glance at each other, but in a second, we are racing after her. We split up to try and find her. Finnick and I go one way, Johanna and Haymitch go another. I don't know where Beetee goes, but I'm too preoccupied to care. Finnick and I reach Katniss first. She has stopped in a clearing, staring up in the sky. We nearly crash into her back before we can stop. Then we follow her gaze and see what she's looking at.

"It's alright," she's panting, "I'm okay. I thought it was my sister, but it's just a Jabberjay."

Then another voice rings out. A woman screaming. Annie. Five years ago, she was the victor of the Hunger Games. I remember her scream from the television. And I know that Finnick is in love with her, whether or not he shows that when he sleeps with other Capitol girls. He charges after the voice, and Katniss tries to catch him.

"It's not her, Finnick!" she argues, "It's just a Jabberjay!"

"Jabberjays copy voices. Where do you think they got those screams?" he shoots back. Shock hits Katniss, and Finnick races after the screams. I'm about to go after him when I hear one more voice.

"Desdemona?"

There's an edge of panic in the voice, but it isn't screaming like the others. It also isn't female.

"Seneca?" I whisper, fearing I'd never hear his voice again. I've watched his interviews with Caesar Flickerman so many times just so that I wouldn't forget it. But hearing him say my name awakens something deep inside me.

Something primal.

I need to find him.

"Desdemona," it continues, and I run through the woods, searching, "I will always love you. Know that I'm not leaving you. I'll always be with you. I still think that fate had a bigger hand in arranging our marriage than our parents did."

I step into a clearing to see a bird sitting calmly on a branch. I walk up to it with tears in my eyes, but another lands next to it. This one carries the same voice, but much different words.

"No! You don't know what you're doing!" he's shouting, his voice ringing with desperation, "You can't do this, Snow!"

Another lands on the same branch. This time, Seneca's voice sounds furious. I never heard Seneca this angry.

"Leave her alone!" he roars, "Don't you dare touch Desdemona! Kill me, but if you do anything to hurt her, I will find some way to destroy you! Never under estimate her strength. She may be able to destroy you herself."

I'm so concentrated on the voices that I don't realize I'm shaking and crying. All his voices are overlapping now, the anger, the love, the desperation. It's all mingling together to form one sound. I know that I'm hearing the final moments before his death. I know he's not still alive, making tracks for the birds to copy. My hands are clasped to my face as I hyperventilate. Before I notice the dizziness, I'm on the ground once again. I feel nausea rise up inside me, and before I pass out, I puke.

* * *

SNOW'S POV:

 _I watch the monitor as Seneca is led into the room. After the door is closed behind him, he tries to open it only to discover that it's locked. Slowly, he makes his way to the table in the middle of the room. Sitting on it is a crystal bowl filled with Nightlock berries._

 _I'm not too attached to Seneca, but I don't particularly want to kill him. It is necessary though. He showed me that he could not be trusted. Therefore, he needs to be ended. I can't allow another debacle like this._

 _However, instead of reaching for the berries, he smirks and looks up at the hidden camera, somehow knowing exactly where it is placed._

 _"_ _I have a favor to ask," he says. As if he deserves anything from me, "If you're going to kill me, I would like for you to deliver the following message to my fiancée."_

 _Fiancée? I raise an eyebrow, leaning forward in my seat. He has my attention now. He's been keeping secrets from me as well._

 _"_ _Desdemona Summers, I will always love you. Know that I'm not leaving you. I'll always be with you. I once told you that my mother would read those fairytales to me when I was young. Remember that you're my true love, and we will still have our happily ever after. We'll see each other again. Do you remember our first date? How you glared at me when I ordered your food for you? I honestly had no idea that lobster was your favorite food. Do you remember what I told you that night? Well, I still think that fate had a bigger hand in arranging our marriage than our parents did. I love you, Des."_

 _Then, he walks over to the couch and lays down. He has no intention of eating the berries yet. I know the emotional stages he'll go through before he finally accepts his fate. He'll plead for his life. He'll get angry._

 _But that's not what concerns me. The name he mentioned brings up old memories. Desdemona Summers. The daughter of the man who was executed years ago for treason._

 _I growl in frustration. This girl is connected to two men who have proven to be troublesome. Perhaps she should be ended as well. But…the third quarter quell is coming up, and I need to come up with something new for the Games. I'll have the tributes drawn from the existing pool of victors, but I can add another element. It will spice up the Games as well as kill Desdemona. I won't have to explain the reason for her execution either, which would prove to be difficult. She has never done anything wrong herself, and if I start randomly killing people in the Capitol, there'll be unrest._

 _But this will look like a tragedy. An attempt to add some more excitement to the Games._


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter Sixteen  
**

My eyes flutter open, and all I see is bright light until a figure crouching over me comes into focus. Then behind him, I see the rainforest trees take shape. I'm still alive. I'm still in the arena, but the person crouching over me shouldn't be.

"Hey," his comforting voice rings out as he caresses my hair. My eyes take in his bright blue ones, his pressed red and black suit, his slicked hair, his unique beard.

"Seneca," my lips say but my voice is so weak that no sound comes out.

"You're okay."

"I'm going to die."

"Then don't die for nothing. Do everything you can to get Katniss out alive."

"What?" I ask in disbelief.

"Listen, most of the other tributes are trying to do that. She can start the revolution. She can avenge both of our deaths, and your father's. If you win, Snow will kill you anyway."

"I have to at least fight."

"Sweetheart," he sighs, running his hand down the side of my face, to my neck, "Snow knew about us. That's why he put Capitol tributes in the Games. That bowl he drew your name out of, it was filled with blank slips of paper."

My eyes widen in shock, but too soon, he's slipping away from me.

"No!" I scream, clinging to his hand as he fades. But he isn't disappearing. He's morphing into someone else. His black hair is becoming golden, and his suit is fading into the jumpsuit that matches mine. "Seneca, no!"

I'm sobbing, but Alejandro shakes me.

"Get up, you stupid girl!" he's growling, "Someone could come and kill you."

He tries to lift me to my feet, but I'm thrashing wildly against him.

"NO!" I shriek, kicking at him. He drops me and I roll away, grabbing a knife from my belt. It's one of the thin ones, and I doubt he sees me grab it. Maybe if I didn't just think he was Seneca, I would have walked away. I would have let him find his own end. But I am hysterical, driven insane by my loss, and I don't even realize what I'm doing until I slice open his cheek.

I watch him fall back, looking at me in horror first, and then anger. He leaps on me, pinning me to the ground, but I refuse to let him physically overpower me again. Even though both Seneca and I know I will die, neither of us will accept it being at the hands of Alejandro.

The knife is still in my hand, and I dig it into his palm. With a cry, he pulls back. He recovers quickly, moving to grab my wrist again. But I've already lifted my hand and flung the dagger into his chest. It cuts through him easily, striking his heart.

I see the life fade from his eyes as he falls off of me. His hand goes to his chest, holding the bloody spot where my knife is still protruding. He groans weakly in pain once before shutting his eyes. A canon goes off. He's dead.

I stand. I need to find my allies, do something to help Katniss, and join Seneca.

* * *

"I thought she was with you!" I hear Haymitch yelling at Finnick.

"She's from the Capitol," he argues, "I took my eye off of her for a minute. Those people can get into so much trouble when they're not being watched constantly."

"Well, now she's dead!" yells Johanna angrily.

I follow their voices until I reach the beach.

"I'm right here," I say, stepping onto the sand. Both Katniss and Johanna's faces are ones of relief. Finnick rolls his eyes. Beetee is too concentrated on his wire to notice. Haymitch approaches me angrily.

"Where were you?" he demands.

"I passed out somewhere in the forest. The Jabberjays were…I hyperventilated…"

"What was that canon for?"

"Alejandro," I admit, "I killed him."

The group freezes. Even Beetee looks up.

"You killed him?" asks Finnick, and I nod. He smirks. "I guess I underestimated you, Snow Queen."

"Don't call me that," I say simply, but Haymitch is already talking quickly about something else.

"We've come up with a plan to kill the rest of the Careers. At midnight, when lightning strikes the tree, Beetee is gonna wrap the wire around it and put the other end in the water. When the lightning strikes, it will electrify the water and the damp sand, killing anyone in contact with it."

"There's no one on the beach," I say, "except us."

"Well, we're obviously gonna leave. And when we do, hopefully the Careers will come."

I pause, considering it. Finally, I shake my head once in reply.

"Alright, sounds like a plan."


	18. Chapter 18

**Hi everyone! So, this will be the penultimate chapter. The next post will be the epilogue and the final posting for this story.**

 **Chapter Seventeen**

Several hours later, we're all standing by the tree. Beetee is in the process of winding the wire around the trunk and branches while Haymitch is giving out orders.

"Johanna and Katniss, you two are going to walk the wire down to the water. After it's in place, come straight back. You don't need to be among the electrocuted," he's saying, "Finnick, go with them and keep any other tributes from attacking them. Desdemona, you'll stay here with Beetee and I."

I nod in consent, and though neither Johanna nor Katniss looks thrilled, neither argues. Once the three others set off, Beetee continues with the wire while Haymitch and I keep watch.

"Can I have one of your knives, Desdemona?" Beetee asks. I turn and look at him skeptically.

"No," I say, stepping away from him. I don't trust anyone with my knives, and I don't like that he's trying to take my weapons away.

"Give him one, Desdemona," Haymitch says.

"What is he gonna do with it?"

"Come with me and I'll show you," Beetee replies gently, like a teacher with a student. Still suspicious but feeling less defensive, I follow him around the side of the tree, and I can see the force field flickering a few feet away. Hanging from the tree is an extra strand of wire. "Now, take out one of your knives and wrap the wire around it."

Relieved that he isn't going to make me hand my knife over to him, I do as he tells me. Wrapping the wire around the knife handle is awkward since I only have nine fingers, but I manage. Once it's done, I turn back to him, but he doesn't meet my eye. He looks off into the distance. A moment later, he falls to the ground.

Standing behind him is Enobaria, the female tribute from 2. For a moment, I think she's going to kill me, she stares at me so furiously, baring her pointed teeth. But then a sound catches her attention. She turns her head towards Haymitch, who is now running after her, and takes off into the forest.

"Finish the job, Desdemona, and remember who the enemy is," he yells as he disappears through the trees.

But I can't tear my eyes away from Beetee, laying on the ground by my feet. He's definitely wounded and unconscious, but after reaching down and feeling for his pulse, I discover that he's still alive. Unfortunately, I have no idea how to finish the job since he never told me what I was doing with the knife.

After a few terrible moments of confusion and indecision, I hear someone crashing through the forest, coming back to me. I crouch under a bush in case it's Enobaria, but then Katniss appears. She looks wild and bloody. A canon goes off, and she screams what we're both thinking.

"Haymitch!" her shriek sounds like a wounded animal.

I stand up.

"Katniss, where's Johanna?" I yell. We're seconds away from the lightning bolt, and I have no clue what I'm supposed to be doing. Haymitch knows apparently, but if he's dead… But maybe Johanna knows too.

"She stabbed me!" Katniss' voice carries across the yards of jungle between us, "She tried to kill me, and then Finnick ran off through the woods with her."

"Enobaria came here. She attacked Beetee, but he's still alive. Haymitch went after her. That canon could have been for her," I finish hopefully.

"Or Brutus," she adds. We stare at each other in desperation before I raise my knife, still wrapped in wire.

"What do I do with this?" I ask, though now it seems like only Haymitch and Beetee were on our side, "Did anyone tell you anything? Do you have any ideas?"

Thunder rumbles above our head as she comes closer to observe the knife. I look up as the clouds converge directly above the tree. Only a few more seconds left. Katniss follows my gaze to the sky, where the beginning traces of lightning illuminate the sky. Covering the clouds, I can see a shiny covering in some places, with little hexagonal shapes.

"The force field?" I ask. She's nodding.

"I'd shoot an arrow with the wire, but there's no time. You can throw far. Do you think you can get the knife all the way up there?"

I shake my head.

"No way. That's too high up," I answer, but then a different idea pops in my head, "Run. Go as far away as you can. Get as deep into the forest as possible in the next few seconds."

She hesitates, so I scream at her, waving my knife furiously in the air. With tears streaming down my cheeks, I beg her to go. Eventually, though she's sobbing and screaming as well, she bounds off through the trees. As soon as she disappears I hear her voice mixed with Haymitch's as they find each other both alive.

Good. Now I can get both out alive. I just need to shut down the arena. Die for a good cause. And then be reunited with Seneca. The lighting gets more violent above my head as I take a few steps around the tree, where the force field meets the ground. The explosion will be so violent that I'm sure I won't live, but it doesn't matter. After this, I have nothing to live for anyway.

My father is dead. My fiancé is dead. Cinna, my childhood friend, is dead. I'd be surprised if my mother wasn't killed by Snow at this point. I don't know where Effie will be, but Katniss and Haymitch won't need me except to free them from this arena.

As the bolt of lightning crashes onto the tree, it travels quickly through the wire. As it reaches the dagger, I throw it into the force field. I see one flash of fire before everything is gone forever.


	19. Chapter 19

**Hi everyone! This will be the last chapter of this fanfiction. Thank you so much to all who read, followed, favorited, and left reviews. I really enjoyed writing it, and I'm kind of sad that it's over.**

 **If you liked this fanfiction, please feel free to check out my other ones. I write for several fandoms. So far I've done Harry Potter, Once Upon a Time, the Avengers, and some other ones. In addition, I anticipate there being a Divergent one in the near future. So please check out my other ones if you would like.**

 **So, without further ado, I give you the ending of "Killin' Em."**

 **Epilogue**

 _Are you, are you_

 _Coming to the tree?_

 _Where they strung up a man, they say who murdered three._

 _Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be_

 _If we met at midnight in the hanging tree._

 _Are you, are you_

 _Coming to the tree?_

 _The dead man, he called out for his love to flee._

 _Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be_

 _If we met at midnight in the hanging tree._

"Are you," a voice sings softly in the distance. It sounds muffled, almost as if I'm listening to it underwater, "Are you, coming to the tree?" It grows louder and clearer with every word, "I told you to run, so we'd both be free. Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be if we met at midnight in the hanging tree."

Slowly, I become more aware of my surroundings. My head is lying on something warm and soft, yet undeniably firm. My cheek is pressed against it, letting soft fabric caress my skin.

"Are you," the male voice starts another verse of the song I haven't heard since I was a child but recognize immediately. It was banned, but my father had always been rebellious. "Are you coming to the tree?" Several finger thread through my hair, pushing it away from my face, and I suddenly realize who is holding me.

"Wear a necklace of rope side by side with me," I croak in a broken melody that can barely be heard through the weakness of my voice, but he stops singing.

"Desdemona?" his voice is full of emotion.

Thick with passion, desperation, and hope.

"Seneca," I whisper, letting my eyes flutter open. This time, I'm no longer in the arena. I'm not surrounded by the sticky air or the tall, damp trees. The air is cool, and behind my true love's head is a sky made entirely of rainbows. I'm lying in a field of lush grass with my head on Seneca's lap. Off in the distance, I think I can make out a castle, but between that is a forest.

My body is still weak, but being as gentle as he can, he pulls my body to his chest, giving me a long, desperate hug. I start crying with relief against him.

When he breaks away, we're both smiling.

"I missed you so much," I tell him through my tears.

"Me too."

"Was that really you in the arena?"

"I've been watching over you this entire time. It was only when your mind was weakest that you were able to hear me."

I consider this, letting my head rest against his leg again. I don't think I've ever felt this kind of peace since Seneca was executed. Letting out a sigh, I look at the new area around us. For a moment, I find it hard to believe that we weren't just thrown into another arena, but Seneca seems to think it's safe.

"Where are we? Are you really here this time? Or are you another hallucination?" questions tumble out of my mouth, but he only chuckles.

"This is the afterlife. No Hunger Games. No Snow. The castle in the distance is ours. You're my queen, and I'm your king. Your father lives with us, as does Cinna. This is our world, and we can make it whatever we want."

"So I'm dead?" I ask, but somehow this doesn't fill me with sadness. It fills me with a sense of freedom. I feel weightless. Not a thing to worry about. Only my father and Seneca, my king, and my friend, Cinna. When Katniss eventually dies, which is hopefully no time soon, she'll be welcome as well. Same with Haymitch and Johanna. And Peeta and Prim and Finnick and Annie.

But right now, I'm content with my small world made of rainbows and castles. It's like the worlds in the fairytales Seneca's mom used to read to him.

And now I know that this has always been the happily ever after to our story.


End file.
